


a conversation about identity

by fangoria



Category: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, it IMPLIES val has a messiah complex :| we all know poison has one, uhh angstyyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangoria/pseuds/fangoria
Summary: Val has a sad time bros =/
Relationships: Val Velocity & Party Poison
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	a conversation about identity

His eyes are too soft, without the mask on. Val squints at the mirror, imitating the look he’d seen in those cowboy movies. It falls short, his bottom lip trembling too much to make him look threatening. The mask sits on the sink beside his clenched fist, watching. 

He huffs, biting at his lip, and stamps on an empty box of hair dye as he leans over to grab the shower.

The water’s cold, as it always is. Val hasn’t had hot water since he left the city. 

When he comes up for air, there’s dye dripping down his face, like blood dripping from a crown of thorns. The mask is untouched, the water droplets surrounding it but not touching it. 

"Untouchable, even after death, huh?" he mutters, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. Now that he holds it, he can feel the chips and grazes in the paint. On one side, there's a slight burn mark. Where they were shot, he guesses. 

His hair's drying around his face, and he glances at his reflection again. 

He looks nothing like Poison - his face is too round, his posture too bad, his face is too splotchy and red. His eyes are brimming with tears.

And everyone knows that Poison was a fearless leader, not one to cry over losing one of their crew; they trusted the witch. 

Vaya and Vamos were laughing outside the door. Val's thoughts drifted to the Girl. She was one of the few people Poison directly failed. He'd promised her protection, something that was simple enough. So easy he could fucking manage it, for the most part. But they'd fucked it up, had fucking died on her. 

The thought should be cathartic. Val could taste vomit building up at the back of their throat. He swallowed and pushed his hair back, stepping out the door. 

Gotta stay in character when you're playing dress-up.


End file.
